Till Death Do Us Part
by MashPotatoeSquishBanana
Summary: "Love you, Wise Girl," he whispered. If possible, Annabeth clutched him tighter. "Love you too, Seaweed Brain," she breathed back. "See you soon," Percy murmured. "Meet you on the beach?" Their eyes locked. "Definitely." Then they both closed their eyes one last time. This is the story of a love that never really died. This is the happy ending of Percy and Annabeth.


**Hi, everyone. This is an angsty one shot that is 2500+ words.**

**Title: Till Death Do Us Part  
Main Characters: Annabeth Chase and Percy Jackson  
Status: 2088, they are both in their nineties.**

Ninety three. That's how old Annabeth Chase was. In fact, besides her husband, Percy Jackson, she was the oldest demigod to have ever lived.

_But this isn't a life_, she thought bitterly as she lay immobile in her uncomfortable hospital bed.

Both she and Percy had been hospitalized simply because as old age corrupted their bodies, they needed help.

Annabeth wanted her husband- _needed _him. She'd grown so accustomed to having him at her side. The nurses didn't understand when she tried to convey to them what she wanted. They didn't understand the spiritual bond between Annabeth and Percy, _couldn't _understand that their relationship was literally blessed by the gods. They didn't understand that Percy was more than just her husband- he was her best friend, her true love, her soulmate. The nurses had no way of knowing the long, long history with Percy that lay beneath Annabeth's papery, old skin. And they absolutely had no clue that Percy's ninety fourth birthday, and the couple's seventy seventh yearly anniversary (they had decided that monthly was too often) had passed just a couple of days ago.

It had been seventy years exactly since he proposed when they were twenty three, but she remembered every little detail down to the cologne she had been wearing.

He had proposed spontaneously one afternoon on afternoon when he had dropped by to help Annabeth rearrange her apartment. She had suggested that he move in with her, since he seemed to spend more time at his girlfriend's place than his own home, and right then and there, he'd said, "Okay. But only if you marry me."

And he'd dropped to one knee and held out a red velvet box while grinning, a hopeful gleam in his eye.

Annabeth had grabbed hold of his shirt so fast he had dropped the ring box. They'd kissed passionately, her clutching the front of his shirt, his hands wrapped tightly around her abdomen.

After a few minutes, they'd parted, both panting but wearing grins so wide they were manic. Annabeth had leaned down and picked up the ring off the floor and slipped it onto her finger, still smiling hugely.

"How does it look?" she asked simply, holding out her hand, admiring the diamond- studded ring as it gleamed in the sunlight.

"Better on you than it did in the shop," Percy admitted.

And then they'd been too distracted by the otherto think straight for the next couple of hours.

Annabeth let a small smile grace her thin, chapped lips at the memory.

But it soon faded when her gaze rested on the deadly looking needle in her arm. The needle was connected to a strange machine that beeped in time to her pulse, and carried a bag of fluid.

Annabeth rested her head back on her pillow, tried to tune the annoying beeping out of her ears by studying her room mates.

Across the room from her was an old man who was sleeping soundly, snoring lightly. His white tufts of hair were greasy and stuck up in all directions. His skin was papery and translucent. Annabeth glanced apprehensively at her own arm and sighed in disgust.

What used to be tanned, smooth, unblemished skin was now drained of all colour, wrinkly, and prominently laced under the skin were blue and purple veins. She reached a hand up and touched her hair. She didn't have as much as she used to, and the strands she did still have were white, brittle and stick straight. At least it was still long and somewhat soft, and not greasy or smelly.

The woman in the next bed was absentmindedly picking at her cotton blanket while she stared at the TV above her. Annabeth deemed the woman to be in her thirties or so.

A nurse scurried into the room and stopped at Annabeth's bedside, scanning a piece of paper with a sharp scowl, and glancing at the beeping machine which was attached to the needle in Annabeth's arm.

"Excuse me," Annabeth croaked, struggling to sit up. The hard, flat pillows did nothing to support her head. She fell back onto the bed.

The young nurse, whose name tag identified her as _Kirsty_ bent down and said, "What's up, hon? Are you in pain? I can get you some—"

"No." Annabeth cut in. "I want—"

But she was cut off by a buzzer going off in the next bed.

"I'll be back," Kirsty promised, racing off to tend to the person who had pressed the buzzer. After she'd dealt with the patient, Kirsty rushed out of the room, Annabeth watching her with sad grey eyes.

Kirsty didn't come back.

* * *

Percy was in pain. He missed his wife so desperately he felt he would die if they were separated any longer. He remembered a hazy time many decades ago- when him and Annabeth had been separated for nearly a whole year because of a meddling goddess.

It was like that, except much worse, because they _knew _where the other was, and they were helpless, completely, utterly helpless. For all Percy knew, Annabeth could be in the next _room_, and he would never know.

With nothing to do, he wondered idly if Annabeth was in the same situation as him. Was she even still alive? The nurse didn't know that Percy and Annabeth were married, so why should they notify him if a woman a couple of rooms away died?

Jackson was a pretty common surname, anyway.

If Annabeth died, Percy wouldn't ever know until he himself followed her into the world of the dead and met her on the shores of Elysium.

He sighed and closed his eyes; he was extremely tired. As he felt himself drifting off, some part of him wondered if he would even wake up.

He was drooling within seconds.

* * *

A couple more days passed. Annabeth and Percy hadn't seen each other for more than two weeks.

That was a record for them, the longest they'd been without each other in over seventy years (apart from that time they fought over who feeds the cat and Percy had stayed at his mum's for a month. But at least during that time period, they knew that the other was okay. Secretly, they had both been keeping tabs on the other through Sally).

Annabeth knew that she was old, and might not live as long as Percy. So one day, she called a nurse in and asked for a pen, a bit of paper, and her wallet which housed exactly twenty dollars in notes, three credit cards and one photo.

She wanted to convey all her thoughts to Percy in case the inevitable happened to occur before they could meet again in person.

* * *

Throughout his time in hospital, Percy felt his insides slowly erode away until all that was left was sharp, needle- like pain. He literally felt like Kronos was sticking his poison- covered scythe into him, or someone was stabbing a white- hot knife into his heart.

_Annabeth_. She was the only thing on his mind. Even Spongebob Square Pants couldn't take his mind off his wife.

One day, about three weeks into Percy's stay at the hospital, a nurse popped into his room and knelt beside his bedside.

"Mr Jackson," she said in a professional tone. Percy simply looked at her, unable to muster up the energy to speak.

"I was previously unaware that your wife was residing in the same hospital as you."

Percy perked up at the mention of Annabeth.

"If we had known that you two were two mere rooms away from each other, we could have arrange a little 'date' for you," the nurse said wryly.

Percy managed a small smile, nodding appreciatively at the nurse.

She chuckled. "Still in love after how long, Mr Jackson?"

"Been together for seventy seven years. Best friends for eighty one," He announced proudly.

The nurse raised an eyebrow. "Impressive, Mr Jackson. Alas, I'm a busy woman, but Mrs Jackson," Percy couldn't suppress a smile at the name, even though it had been seventy years, "gave me this to give to you."

Percy reached his hand out shakily and the nurse dropped an envelope into his clutch.

"Hand written and sealed by she herself," the nurse laughed lightly.

Percy ripped open the envelope and a letter that was addressed to him, written in a shaky hand fell out, as well as a crumpled, old fashioned photo.

He looked at the photo first, and his heart swelled with happiness, but the light, bubbly feeling was quelled as he was once again filled with a longing for Annabeth.

The photo was of them on their wedding day.

Annabeth and Percy stood atop Half- Blood Hill with their arms around each other. The view behind them was of the whole of Camp Half- Blood illuminated by a brilliant orange sunset. Apollo had been on their side, that day.

Annabeth was in her simply- designed wedding dress, Percy in his tux.

Annabeth looked absolutely stunning, her golden locks luminous and eyes glowing with happiness. Her head rested on Percy's chest, her face facing the camera. Her other hand cupped the back of his neck. Percy remembered that photo being taken by none other than Rachel Dare.

And straight afterwards, they'd kissed- which had lead to other infidelities in cabin 3 later that night.

Percy still remembered Rachel's disgusted voice saying, "Oh, guys. Save it for the bedroom," and then Percy and Annabeth jumping apart, blushing furiously.

Percy smiled fondly at the memory.

He was wrenched from his thoughts by the nurse, whom he had forgotten was still there. "Is that you?" she asked, leaning over Percy's shoulder.

"That's me and Annabeth on our wedding day," he murmured, his eyes stinging with unshed tears.

He opened the letter and choked on a cry. It was unmistakably Annabeth's hand.

_Seaweed Brain, _it read. Percy smiled fondly at the pet name.

_Who knew we'd both end up here in the end? I can't stand it, having to depend on all these nurses. They come in at freaking midnight_, _for gods' sakes! Inconsiderate!_

Percy snorted in laughter at that. Typical independent Annabeth.

_You know, Percy, being in hospital had made me realize how fragile life really is. Hopefully we'll meet in the mortal world again before we meet in Elysium. I miss you. So much._

Percy's eyes clouded with tears, and the words floated across the page. When he was feeling emotional, his dyslexia always acted up.

_I love you forever._

_Yours till (and after) death,_

_Wise Girl_

It was a solemn way to end a letter. But, Percy reasoned, they didn't have all that long left.

"That's beautiful." The nurse said. "You've been separated for, what, three weeks?"

Percy nodded, still staring at the letter in hand. "That's right." His voice was thick with emotion."Would it be too much to ask to see her before we die?" he wondered aloud.

* * *

It was nearly time, Annabeth knew. Time for dinner? For sleep?

Neither, actually.

Annabeth could feel her life waning, slipping away. She gritted her teeth (and, yes, she _did _still have teeth- real ones- thankyou very much).

She pressed her buzzer for the nurse.

A nurse rushed in straight away. "Yes, dear? What is it?"

"I want to be taken to my husband," Annabeth rasped. "Please."

"Sweetie, you're on medica—"

"Don't care," Annabeth snapped with as much bite as she could, which wasn't much. She coughed, her chest convulsing painfully. "Perseus- Jackson," she whispered, her voice wavering. "Take me to him."

"I'm afraid that is not possible—" Annabeth wasn't listening. She just HAD to see him before he died.

She struggled to sit up, and even that took all her energy. She glared at the offending wheelie walker that she would have to use.

"Mrs Jackson, please lie down," the nurse pleaded when she realised Annabeth's plan. "We'll get a wheelchair for you as soon as possible. However, ware that you are not our only patient—"

"I'm dying," Annabeth's frail voice shook. "I want to be with my husband. Please."

It was the please, uttered so quietly and brokenly, that did it. The nurse sighed, her resolve dissolving.

She promised that she'd be back as soon as possible.

Annabeth breathed deeply, trying to control the sudden pain in her chest.

_Just hold on. _She told herself. _You're seeing Percy soon._

The nurse came back wheeling a wheelchair. She helped Annabeth into it, and both were silent as Annabeth was wheeled down the hall.

The atmosphere was grave, almost as if they both knew what was going to happen just around the corner.

Finally, they reached a single room. There was a frail old man in the bed. His white- greyish hair was thick and healthy looking. He appeared to be asleep, but when he heard the commotion at the door, his eyes snapped open and widened with excitement when he saw Annabeth.

Annabeth wanted nothing more than to jump out of the wheelchair and throw herself at him, but the pain in her chest was too much. A stab of agony shot through her and she winced.

The nurse held her by the crook of her elbows as she slowly stood. It was absolutely humiliating, having to do this in front of Percy. But the process went a lot quicker than it would have if Annabeth had been alone.

When Annabeth was finally lying down next to Percy, they wrapped their arms around each other, content with just being in the other's presence.

The nurse quietly left, sensing that they wanted their last moments together alone.

Percy's bony frame shook. Annabeth buried her head in the crook of his neck.

"I love you, Wise Girl," he whispered. If possible, Annabeth clutched him tighter.

"Love you too, Seaweed Brain," she breathed back.

The pain in Annabeth's chest intensified.

"See you soon, Annabeth," Percy murmured.

"Yeah. Meet you on the beach?" Annabeth met his sea- green eyes one last time.

"Definitely."

They just lay together. Slowly, Percy's breaths slowed until his breathing stuttered once. Annabeth sighed and finally let go of her fight. She let the pain engulf her, consume her.

On August 28th, 2088, at 7:31 PM, Percy and Annabeth Jackson passed away at exactly the same time.

That's how the nurse found them, their limbs tangled. She swore left and right that they both glowed with a 'godly light'.

They were buried together, their bodies forever entwined. A symbol of their undying love for each other. Soulmates, even in the Underworld. As it should be.

As it would be forever.

* * *

Aphrodite watched with smiles and giggles of happiness as her favourite love story since Helen of Troy and Paris- Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase- were reunited in the Underworld.

They ran at each other, their old, faded, dilapidated bodies slowly transforming into what they had been at their prime age- which was 16.

Annabeth leapt into Percy's arms, and they both went tumbling to the ground, laughing in amazement.

The goddess wiped an imaginary tear from her eye and sighed. She could now sleep easy. Percy and Annabeth had had a happy ending. The perfect love story had come to a close.

She absentmindedly wrote _The End _on a piece of paper that had magically appeared.

But, as she watched the two lovers bask in each other's warm love on the shores of Elysium she thought, _it really isn't the end._

And it wasn't. They had an eternity laid out before them, and Aphrodite would make sure that that eternity with each other would make up for all the hard times they'd been through.

She giggled once again at the two, then turned to a scene of Camp Half- Blood.

_Now, who should be my next priority?... _She thought as she scanned the crowd of half bloods for a nice pairing.

**How was that? I thought it was quite moving. **

**Reviews are much appreciated!**

**MashPotatoeSquishBanana :) **


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